


Fairytales

by bexacaust



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Bickering, Gen, M/M, previous relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-26
Updated: 2016-05-26
Packaged: 2018-07-10 07:58:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6974470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bexacaust/pseuds/bexacaust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If I apologized; I don’t suppose you’d even notice <br/>even though I’d whisper it inside <br/>If I apologized; we could be the perfect couple <br/>Well we could, but only in my mind</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fairytales

_Once upon a time; there was a wanderer and there was a thinker. One day, their paths crossed like cock-eyed orbits deep in space. The thinker loved the wanderer’s spirit, they way his optics lit up as he told stories of his many adventures. The wanderer loved the thinker’s intimate innocence; hidden away from their war torn world, the thinker had spent his time pondering the planets and watching comets streak through the night._

_But, one day…. the wanderer felt the call of life again, and he vanished. The thinker, heartbroken, became a warrior and cast aside his thoughts and musings to take up arms. He felt something in his chest go so very cold, something that reminded him of a body lain beside his and of arms around his waist._

_And, like those curs’d orbits, they met once more._

_“Wanderer!”, said the thinker, “Why did you leave in the night? Why did you break my heart like ill-gotten trinkets?”  
_

_“Thinker,”, answered the wanderer, “You knew I was not one for staying, yet you loved me still, loved me for that even. Why do you look upon me with anger in your optics and spite in your spark?”  
_

_“Because you too knew you were not one for staying, O Wanderer!”, was the reply, “You, who knew far better than I in my foolish daydreams; and yet you promised me you would stay!”_

_==============================================================_

Perceptor looked over the words bitterly once again, furious at finding the datapad in his workplace. His chess-partner, the newest cocaptain, seemed almost amused.

“Something vexes thee, O Thinker.”, said the ex-Warlord, “Praytell, what may it be?”

Perceptor looked at him, and Megatron was surprised at the vehemence in a single optic. The scientist cleared his throat, and in a too-even tone, recited:

“Save thy song, O Primal Bard, there’s none here left to listen; And should ye find an audience, they’ll have no coin for giving.”

Megatron’s expression went deadpan, “Ah. I see you know of the Old Literature as well.”

“I’m quite intelligent, surprisingly.”

“I have left my readings here many times, why so irritated by this one?”, mused Megatron, his grin slowly returning, “Everyone can enjoy an old tale of star-cross’d lovers, can they not?”

“Star-cross’d lovers, unfortunately, burn up in their own orbits; like comets in the atmosphere.”, spat Perceptor, “Either that or they react in childish and stupid ways, and most likely end up dead by overly dramatic means.”

“Oh come now, this story has a happy ending.”, said Megatron, “The Thinker, after asking the Wanderer-”

“Yes, yes, I know.”, sighed Perceptor, “The Thinker, heartbroken and enraged, condemns the Wanderer to roam forevermore until his spark aches like The Thinker’s own still does- to which The Wander lays down his weapons and casts off his cloak to show himself colored in the colors of the Thinker’s line and caste, thereby proposing. It’s revealed-”

Perceptor paused, coughing, before continuing after a long sigh, “It’s revealed that the Wanderer returned from his gallivants among the stars to seek out the Thinker again, to have him as his conjunx forevermore and to never again stray from his side.”

“…Yes, exactly.”

“That’s never how it happens, never. These are just stories, silly tales we tell ourselves so that when we awaken in the dark night afterwards it doesn’t hurt so much to see blank spaces in the dusty shelves where someone else once took up space.”, hissed Perceptor bitterly, “It’s all just pretty words on a gilded page, for empty minds and optics too numb from mourning to devour over and over again in the desperate hope that just MAYBE, just this ONCE, the stories all get to be true.”

“Perceptor…”, began Megatron, but the scientist had already begun his daily bustle about the lab, slamming cabinets and drawers, and growling as he spoke.

“Relying on such foolish things as stories and poetry will get us nowhere; YOU saw that firsthand. Pretty words beget petty behavior, that’s how it always has been and how it always will be.”

“Rich coming from the one who’d read poetry aloud when I’d polish my swords.”, snapped an annoyed voice from the doorway.

“Considering half the time you’d polish your sword and fall into recharge, can you blame me for TRYING for romance?”, snipped Perceptor coldly in return.

Drift flared immediately, “Hell’re you trying t’say Percy?!”

“Just stating the facts, Drift darling.”, seethed Perceptor, “Typical knight; once his sword’s been sheathed he’s USELESS til morning.”

“Didn’t stop you from enjoying it.”

“Why shouldn’t I have? After all, everyone’s proudest of the things they did the most work for.”

Drift rolled his optics, “Hokay Pettyceptor, whatever helps you recharge at night when Brainstorm isn’t there to amuse you.”

“Are you INSINUATING something?”

“Oh come on, your loyalties flipped the second I vanished! Let’s be real, you were young, it was puppy love, you felt ‘indebted’ to me or whatever, and you’ve moved on. Just be happy with Brainstorm; since you have such a thing for ex-Cons.”

Megatron watched the oncoming mushroom cloud with raised eyebrows.

“HE’S BEEN MY FRIEND FOR BLOODY YEARS YOU CHEAP SLAGHEAP OF AN IMPORT!”, snarled Perceptor, “WHAT KIND OF MECH DO YOU TAKE ME FOR?!”

“YOU’RE A WRECKER! IT’S WHAT THEY DO!”, growled Drift back, “ADMIT IT, YOU ONLY REMEMBERED MY NAME WHEN YOU SAW IT ON THE SHIP’S LIST!”

“OH AND BECAUSE I’M A WRECKER I DON’T HAVE FRIENDS, JUST BERTHMATES, HM?!”, yowled Perceptor, “DID IT EVER OCCUR TO YOU THAT I KNEW HIM FROM BEFORE THEN?!”

Drift shook his head, “Whatever, PERCY, I’m just here on a delivery.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“What?”

Perceptor looked at him frigid, “The designation. Is. Perceptor.”

“Oh a sudden change of heart? Color me surprised.”, said Drift flatly, “Anyway, Perceptor, Magnus wanted me to deliver the engine output report to you.”

Drift tossed them onto the table, “I guess it’ll distract you from your stupid self-importance long enough to remember what a sap you always were when it came to dumb poetry.”

“Well maybe if you’d never showed up I’d still be able to believe in FAIRYTALES hm?”, fired Perceptor back, “Instead of having to realize I was just a brief replacement for a mech long DEAD.”

Drift flared immediately again, opening his mouth to speak.

“Oh, do shut up O Wanderer.”, spat Perceptor, “You’ve made it obvious enough after all this time that you don’t have a spark to BREAK; though you seem to be just FINE with stomping on them still.”

And with that sentence hovering in the air, and Drift’s expression going from angry, to shocked, to stunned realization, Perceptor breezed past him; letting their shoulder’s collide and making Drift stumble before he turned to watch a too-straight back.

“If anyone needs me, tell them to comm Brainstorm.”

“Have fun at the range, Perceptor.”, said Megatron gently.

“I won’t be there. I’ll be on the open observation deck.”

“Why?”, asked Drift, voice suddenly quiet.

“Shooting down the stars that lied to me for a thousand years; telling me they’d make wishes come true.”

The door hissed shut after Perceptor briskly walked through it.


End file.
